The village square of the Orycto tribe was usually a place of rhythmic, predictable labor, but today the peace was shattered by a sharp, panicked scream that echoed from the northern storage sheds.
Long Zhan, who had been standing near the central fire pit with his arms crossed, turned his head with the precision of a hawk. His violet eyes narrowed as a thick, the plume of black smoke began to rise against the backdrop of the mountain peaks.
"Fire! The charcoal stores are igniting!" someone shrieked.
In a tribe that relied on deep-earth insulation and wood-framed structures, fire was a death sentence. The Orycto tribe did not have a blacksmith; their tools were bone, stone, and rare traded metals.
However, they maintained a vital "Fire Pit"—a deep, lined trench where specialized Fire Handlers kept a perpetual ember burning to provide warmth and heat for cooking.
